It's Kind of Obvious
by MurtaghArcturus
Summary: She really wondered what it would be like to kiss Neville Longbottom. But it didn't mean she fancied him. Of course not. Neville/Hermione post-war at Hogwarts
1. Chapter 1

**This was my first attempt with these two so please be gentle**

* * *

"Hey… do you mind helping me with this for a second?" Neville asked, as he turned.

Hermione looked up from her perch atop the table, where she had been sitting for the past hour or so reading. "Sure," she hopped down, closing and marking her place in her large tome, making her way over to him.

"I just need you to hold the tentacles while I trim back the growths on the stems." He handed her a pair of gloves and grabbed his clippers, quickly getting the job done with the efficiency he always had tending the numerous different plants in the Hogwarts greenhouses.

Neville had become one of her closest friends in the past months, as only she and Ginny had stayed to return to finish their final year. Both Harry and Ron had decided to enroll in the Auror program and were currently being trained inside the Ministry to round up the rogue Death Eaters still across Britain that needed capturing.

She completely understood their decision, but the first weeks had been lonely without them there to cause trouble, so she had grown closer to Ginny and even closer to Neville. She often spent time with him while he worked through caring for the flora and fauna inside the greenhouses for Professor Sprout, relaxing into the familiar smells and sounds of all the magical plants surrounding her. She found it to be the easiest place to relax, after the library.

Since the start of term of her eighth year, she had relied on these quiet outings with Neville in the evenings to clear her head. Spending near an entire year inside a tent and fighting in the battle had left her with the desire to live a quiet and completely boring life. At least for the time being – until she got to work at the Ministry, where she would split the seams on the prejudices and assumptions of the numerous Pure-blooded wizards who desired to keep their world in the Dark Ages.

For now though, she just wanted a quiet and uneventful few months for her final year at Hogwarts.

Neville put down the clippers next to the pot and took off his gloves, wiping his brow. "Thanks for the help. I hate trying to shave back the stem growths when those tentacles are trying to make a grab at me. Hard work that, trying to move around them. They're everywhere at once," he smiled at her.

"Really, it's no trouble!" she said enthusiastically, "The Snarfalump plant is extremely interesting."

He nodded, enjoying her excitement. He took off his apron and hung it on the hook beside the door. "If you want to read more on it, I can give you my copy of _Flesh-Eating Trees of the World._ Loads of interesting stuff in there."

Her face widened in a smile. "That'd be great. Thank you."

As she packed her bag and walked out of the greenhouse beside him, she looked down and tentatively asked, "Are you coming to the library after dinner?"

"'Course, don't I always?"

"Yes," she said, meeting his eyes. "But you don't have to come with me _every_ night. I know I'm being silly,"

"I'll be there," he said.

* * *

Hermione put her quill down and read over her paper. Transfiguration this year she had found to be particularly challenging and she wanted to be sure her essay was perfect. Satisfied with her work, she looked up and saw that Neville had fallen asleep in his chair, his face resting against his hand which was propped against the table, and his breathing slow and even.

She smiled to herself. He had filled out quite a bit since sixth year, his hair grown a bit past his ears- curling slightly at the ends- and his newly acquired stubble prominent on his chin. But it was his confidence that had seen the most growth in the past months. He was still clumsy and shy at times, but the bumbling boy determined to lose his toad from first year was now only a fond memory, in the reality of the man her friend had become.

 _Forced to become,_ she thought sadly as she looked at him. There was still a faint scar high on his cheek from where the Carrow's had thrown a curse at him, only a few short months before.

She quietly got up and packed her things into her bag, where she slung it over her shoulder. She knelt next to his chair, softly shaking his shoulder. "Nev, wake up."

He breathed in deeply before slowly opening his eyes and looking at her. "Time already?" he asked sleepily, the corners of his mouth turning up.

She felt her chest warm as she looked at him. She couldn't help the affectionate look spreading across her face as she stood, offering him her hand. "Yeah," she said sheepishly. "I only had the transfiguration paper to do tonight."

He stretched and yawned, taking her bag from her to carry as they made their way out of the library. She thought the gesture probably should have irritated her, being the proud, independent woman she was, but it only succeeded in her appreciating him more. She knew Neville only did it because he was kind.

"It's a good thing you're Head Girl, otherwise I'd be in right trouble, being out so late."

She chuckled, taking his arm. "Technically, you still shouldn't be… but you know I don't feel comfortable being by myself so late, in the castle."

He tightened his grip on her arm but kept silent. She peaked up at him, blushing when he only smiled kindly at her.

As they stopped in front of the portrait that led to her dorm, she looked at him, chewing her lip. "Thank you for staying in the library with me. And walking me back. You've been a complete life saver the past few weeks."

He went slightly pink and looked down, smiling shyly. "It's really no problem."

She smiled wider and stood on her toes to quickly kiss his cheek. "Really, Nev. Thank you."

His cheeks blushed darker still, and he grinned. He found his habit of blushing rather annoying, as he'd once told her, but quite frankly she found it adorable.

"Goodnight," she smiled at him and gave her password to the painting, it opening to let her into the Head dorms.

"'Night," he replied, turning and making his way down the corridor to Gryffindor Common Room.

She quietly stepped through the portrait, her lips still tingling where she had kissed him.

* * *

Hermione was sitting in front of the fire in her dorm when Ginny came through the portrait hole, her arms balancing what looked like enough pastries to feed the entire Great Hall.

"Hey," said Ginny, plopping down beside her on the couch and putting her feet up. "I got an owl from Harry."

Hermione looked up. "How are they?"

"Good. He says he and Ron both are doing really well in their field training. Apparently not so well in the paperwork they have to do, though." Ginny smirked, biting into a tart.

"Of course," Hermione laughed, exasperated and missing her friends. She and Ginny sat there in comfortable silence for the next few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.

"How're things going with Harry, then? It's only a few more weeks until we see them."

Ginny looked at Hermione and waggled her eyebrows, popping the last bite of her pastry into her mouth and turning towards her on the couch. "They're great actually. Without the war to get in the way, we seem to function rather well as a couple. And he feels much better, now that he's got something to do. I think before he started training he was feeling rather useless."

Hermione pressed her lips together, shaking her head. "He told me, 'past his expiration date' in the summer."

Ginny growled, rolling her eyes. "Bloody idiot."

Hermione raised her eyebrow and smirked, looking sideways at her friend. "Yes, but he's _your_ idiot."

Ginny laughed, "True enough."

They sat once again in silence, both travelling down vastly different trains of thought. At least until Ginny opened her mouth.

"When are _you_ going to get yourself an idiot?"

Hermione looked quickly at Ginny, her eyes widening. "What?"

"Well, I know you and Neville are hanging around each other a lot. I was just curious." Ginny grinned evilly at her friend, enjoying how Hermione's cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

"Well," Hermione started, not able to meet Ginny's eyes, "you're around him near as much as I am. We're just friends, Gin."

" _Riiiight_ ," her friend laughed. "And I'm Arnold the Pygmy Puffs second cousin, twice removed."

" _Ginny!"_ Hermione turned, throwing a pillow at her face.

Ginny caught it, laughing. "Oi! I'm just teasing! No need to get testy."

Hermione huffed, picking up her book and determinedly avoiding Ginny's mirthful gaze.

"You can't deny, though. Nev's definitely grown quite a bit in the last year."

"…Yes," Hermione replied, shorty.

Not getting the desired response from her, Ginny narrowed her eyes and continued. "He's so tall now, isn't he? Not nearly as clumsy anymore, either. And his arms! Have you got a good look at his arms? Bloody hot, when he's working in the greenhouses, yeah?"

Hermione's face grew distinctly redder, but she continued to stare at the book in front of her, denying Ginny the satisfaction of getting a response.

"His hair, too. I wonder what kind of shampoo he uses to make it look so bloody soft. Makes me want to run my fingers through it whenever I get a look at him," Ginny said enthusiastically, using her hands for emphasis.

She watched as Hermione's eyes widened with each sentence. Her face was flaming now, but she refused to respond to Ginny's strategic jabs. _Time for the final blow then,_ Ginny thought, knowing this would get her what she wanted.

"Merlin, and that boys lips! Sometimes, I just wanna lay one on him, his lips look so soft and..." she trailed off, hearing Hermione's gasp and watching as her friend whirled to face her, her eyes wide and her face beet red.

" _GINNY!"_

Ginny looked at her friend innocently, her eyebrows raised. "What?"

Hermione sat there gaping at her, looking thoroughly like a fish out of water. Ginny burst into laughter, her guffaws echoing around the small room as she clutched her stomach and rolled into the couch. Every time she would try and sit up, she would get a look at Hermione sitting there, red faced and annoyed, and dissolve into laughter again.

When Ginny lay there, unable to make noise but silently convulsing, Hermione prodded her with her finger. "You're an _arse_ , you know that?"

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny said, wiping her eyes, "you should have seen your face! It was worth it, just for that."

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms, but couldn't help the reluctant grin that spread across her face. "Now, get out of my dorm before I hex you," she said. "I do have the right, being Head Girl and all."

Ginny scoffed, rolling onto her feet off the couch and slowly moving towards the door, still smiling broadly. "I don't think Head Girl privileges include hexing students, but give it your best go."

Hermione raised her eyebrow and pulled out her wand. "Are you sure? Don't you have Quidditch practice in a few hours?" She laughed with satisfaction as Ginny's eyes widened and her pace quickened. Right as she was about to jump through the portrait hole, Ginny turned and grinned. "Still be worth it, though!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she settled back into the couch, trying to pick up in her book where she had left off.

But there was a niggling thought trying to steal her attention, drawing her away from the words in front of her. Neville _had_ really become quite the attractive man in the past year. His hair _did_ look rather cute, the way he had let it grow out. And his lips, she supposed, did look rather soft. She wondered what it would be like to kiss them, then stopped that thought immediately, startled.

She and Neville were just friends. She wasn't going to think about what Ginny had said. She wasn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione caught herself, once again, staring at the boy across the table from her. _Get a grip, Granger,_ she scolded herself. Thankfully, he seemed completely engrossed in the Herbology text he was reading, so he didn't notice her behaviour.

It had been a few days since Ginny's comments and Hermione hated to admit that every time she looked at Neville she thought of them. It was ridiculous. Ginny was only joking, trying to get a rise out of her, yet she couldn't stop thinking about what she had said.

Hermione clenched her jaw and scowled, looking down and trying to focus on the work she had in front of her. It was a futile attempt, as only a few minutes later, she found her eyes slowly lifting to look at him once again.

Neville really did have nice arms, she noticed, as he absently rolled up the sleeves of his jumper. She watched his forearms flex as he turned the page he had finished reading, his fingers gently stroking down the binding. She bit her lip.

Her eyes moved upwards and to his hair, which reflected in the bright afternoon sunlight, coming in from the windows behind him. It completely lightened his dark strands, highlighting it to a rich brown. His fringe grew almost to his eyes, and she watched as he lifted a hand and swept it back. Her gaze roved down to his grown out ends, where they curled around the nape of his neck and his ears. She imagined running her hands through it… perfect to hold on to if she were to–

Tearing her gaze away, she growled and rubbed her eyes.

"You alright, Hermione?" he asked.

She looked up into his concerned face and forced a smile. "Yes," she sighed. "just tired."

"We could go get some lunch if you wanted."

She shook her head. "No that's alright, really. I just need to try and focus."

"Okay, just let me know when you get hungry." He smiled at her, going back to his reading.

She did manage to force herself to stare at the book in front of her for a while, but when she found she had reread the same paragraph three times, she breathed out deeply and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, she couldn't help their movement to his face. She watched the subtle changes of his expression as he read, and how the corners of his eyes would softly squint when he bit his lip in concentration. _He has such long eyelashes,_ she thought as he blinked slowly, watching as they caressed his cheek each time his eyes closed.

She moved slowly along the long bridge of his nose, down to his lips. She watched as he bit his lower lip lightly, moving it gently between his teeth. They were so attractive looking… she wondered how she hadn't noticed before. She had needed Ginny to point it out before she had really seen them. His lips had to be the nicest she had ever seen. Completely _him_ , kind and soft looking, stretching easily across his face every time he smiled. Completely _kissable._

She really wondered what it would be like to kiss Neville Longbottom.

But it _didn't_ mean she fancied him. Of course not.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, just as November was starting and the grounds shifted into the autumn cold, Hermione found her thoughts that swirled around Neville relaxing. After her analysis of how he had matured in the past months – and her coming to terms with her reaction to it – she didn't find the need to notice it the way she did those first few days.

Now, it seemed, his physical appearance didn't distract her so much as his behaviour did.

She was constantly watching his interactions with not only her, but everyone around him. Though she had absolutely noticed his kindness before, it being a huge contribution for her initial enjoyment of his company, now she found herself _considering_ how he acted far more.

He was immeasurably thoughtful of everyone he talked to, always being sure that they were comfortable with the topic and knowing how to navigate around anything that might upset someone, especially of the past year and happenings during the war. It seemed his leadership of the DA had created a basis of different people who Neville often checked in on, and his compassion made him a role model.

The younger students particularly looked up to him, as he had been one of their few defenders during the Carrow's elected torture lessons, always standing in the way and refusing to hurt them.

Even the teachers looked at him differently than they did other students, the only exceptions perhaps being Hermione and the other members of Dumbledore's Army. They respected him, and he never took advantage – always being polite and well mannered. He was unwaveringly humble, finding the attention and praise a bit overwhelming at times.

It was _extremely_ maddening. How was she supposed to _not_ find him attractive, when everything he did was attractive? Even her cat liked him, and Crookshank's didn't like anybody!

 _Damn_ Ginny for planting this idea inside her head. She never would have given it a thought had it not been brought up.

An excellent example of his behaviour came on an evening a few days later. She and Neville were walking the grounds around the castle. It was rather windy, as dark clouds had settled overhead and were making it quite dark, and the air carried a cold chill. Hermione had wrapped her robes tighter around her, shivering under her scarf, when she saw Neville pull his own off from around his neck.

Before she could say anything, she watched him walk over to another student, no older than a first or second year, and quickly wrap it around them, grinning as he did so, saying something to make the boy laugh. He patted him on the back good-naturedly and ambled his way swiftly back to Hermione, who was watching him intently.

He saw the question in her eyes and said, "That's Ethan. Last year the Carrow's tried to get me to use an Unforgivable on him and I refused. I found him later and asked if he was all right, as it had kind of freaked him out a bit, and he told me that both his parents had been killed only a few weeks before. He's living with his aunt now… I try and talk to him whenever I can. He's such a strong kid. I can't believe how well he's handling everything this year."

Hermione looked at Neville with her mouth slightly agape. He was going out of his way, taking care of this boy whose parents had died, trying to protect and help him as much as he could with what he had. She honestly wouldn't have expected any less from Neville.

She felt a fluttering in her stomach and her world shifted, just ever so slightly, creating the sensation of something falling into place.

She couldn't think of anything to say and blinked at him, feeling a little numb with realization. She followed as he made his way around to the front of the school and back through the front doors.

She cleared her throat, but her voice still came out slightly shaky. "I'll be back in a few minutes… I–I just need to go get something." And before he could ask, she quickly sped off towards the stairs.

* * *

Ginny was sitting on the couch in the Common Room, writing her response to Harry's latest letter, when Hermione came bursting through the portrait hole, looking pale.

Ginny stared at her. "Are you all right?"

Hermione walked over to her and sat down lightly on the couch. A few seconds later she sprang up again and started pacing. "I–I… oh, _Merlin._ "

"What? What is it? Spit it out!" Ginny said worriedly.

"I… I think I… fancy Neville?"

Ginny stared blankly at her. She shook her head quickly, trying to clear it. "Say again?"

" _Ginny!_ You heard what I said," Hermione whimpered.

Ginny's eyebrows pulled together in thought. "Really?"

Hermione nodded her head mutely, biting her lip in dismay.

"Well, what's the problem? He's a nice bloke." Ginny nudged her with her elbow and grinned.

"Wha– Ginny, it's _Neville._ "

"Yes, I did hear that part. I honestly don't see what's got your knickers in such a twist, though. So what if you like him?"

Hermione sighed and slumped heavily onto the couch, her hands covering her face. "I don't know…" she mumbled and stopped, before suddenly sitting up and whirling on her friend. "It's _your_ fault, though! If you hadn't been trying to get a bloody rise out of me, then this never would have happened!"

"Oh, _please_!" Ginny snorted, "The way you two look at each other, it was going to happen sooner or later."

Hermione groaned and buried her face into her hands. "What am I going to do?"

Ginny pursed her lips. "Well, you're going to have to tell him at some point, yeah?"

Hermione froze, then slowly lifted her head and met Ginny's eyes. She shook her head. "He'll think I'm ridiculous. Oh _Gods_ Ginny, I can't tell him! He'll never be able to look me in the eye again, let alone talk to me."

Ginny stared at her, incredulous. "What d'you mean ' _ridiculous_ '? Bollocks!"

Hermione looked back at her sadly. "He's my friend Gin, I can't just suddenly–"

"What– Hermione, he likes you just as much. Probably more, if we're being honest."

Hermione frowned. "You couldn't possibly be able to tell that."

Ginny rolled her eyes. " _Believe me_ , it's kind of obvious."

"Nev is kind to _everyone,_ Ginny. Not just me!"

Ginny groaned, covering her eyes with her hands and mumbling something that sounded distinctly like ' _Stubborn just for the sake of being stubborn.'_

Hermione's eyebrows pulled together, and she bit her lip. "I don't–"

"Hermione."

"Ginny, I–"

" _Hermione."_

They both stopped, Hermione's lips pressing together. They sat in silence for a few seconds and then Ginny sighed and said, "You're not going to tell him, are you?"


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a week. An entire _week_ since Hermione had told Ginny how she felt about Neville, and she could tell he was worried, with the way she was acting. She'd been practically avoiding him since she figured it out. What else was she supposed to do? Every time she looked at him, she could barely walk properly, let alone answer questions or give regular responses. She was just too focused on trying to act normal – hence why she was acting very _abnormal._ It seemed she could barely put one foot in front of the other whenever he was around.

It was only supposed to be temporary; until she got these runaway feelings back under control. And then everything would be back to normal and they'd be friends again, just like before.

"Hermione, I _swear_ ," Ginny said one night in front of the fire in Gryffindor Common Room. Neville had just come in, and after an awkward conversation between him and Hermione, had retreated quickly up the stairs. "If you don't tell him, I'm going to!"

Hermione sighed, her head resting on the table where she had banged it seconds after Neville had fled up to his room.

"Why are you being so thick about this? You're both miserable. I'm going to go _mad_ if I have to watch this for one more second…"

She knew it was ridiculous – they were just _feelings,_ for Merlin's sake – but it scared her a bit, how she felt about Neville. She had experienced similar feelings for Ron, before his stint with Lavender. She had liked him since the end of first year, her feelings growing with each passing summer, up until she thought they really might start being a couple.

After the Yule Ball, she'd suspected he'd felt similar things towards her, and throughout fifth and sixth year their feelings became increasingly more obvious. Even to _them._ Until he had decided to snog Lavender in front of the entirety of Gryffindor House.

It had hurt her immensely, as her reaction with the birds demonstrated. She'd brooded over it for months, hating how weak she felt. She'd tried rationalizing with herself, relying on her logical mind to separate herself from the situation, and found, as the months wore on, that her feelings seemed to slowly dim.

She suspected that with the war coming to a climax soon after, she'd had much more pressing issues to worry about, and so had put her feelings aside. She felt much better off for it, as she and Ron had quickly returned to being as close as they ever were, and had since remained that way.

Her attraction to Neville left her uneasy, though. Even if she had gotten over Ron, it didn't mean she was eager to feel how she had in sixth year.

And perhaps she was just a little bit afraid that if Neville found out how she felt, he would completely reject her.

She just needed time to _think._ Thinking had never failed her before.

* * *

Hermione was standing in front of a table inside one of the greenhouses, staring at the waving plant in front of her, deep in thought. She had come here to think. It was rather relaxing, listening to the rustle and the creak of the building around her. It distracted her from the knots her stomach was currently in.

She felt frustrated and embarrassed with her behaviour. It was horrible – she couldn't get out of her head. Every time she tried to act normal, she felt herself say or do something to muck it up, but it was like she was powerless to stop it. She was seriously considering a strict _Silencing Charm_ on herself, just to stop the ridiculous things she kept saying from ever reaching the ears of anyone else, ever again.

She sighed, picking at a thread on her robe.

"Hermione?" a quiet voice said tentatively from behind her.

Her breath caught and she whirled around. Her eyes widened as she saw who was standing before her.

"Neville," she said weakly. "I–I didn't hear you come in."

He didn't say anything, only continuing to look at her sadly.

"I thought you didn't have to come out here tonight," she said lamely, trying to fill the silence.

"Ginny said you'd be here." He took a step closer.

"Oh," she said quietly.

"Hermione, please talk to me. Did I do something?" She could hear the quiet desperation in his voice and her stomach twisted. Hermione felt horrible for putting it there.

"No!" she said quickly, "It isn't you, Nev, it's just…"

"Then what is it?" he asked, moving closer still. "Please… I just want us to be friends again."

Hermione opened her mouth, but closed it again when she didn't know what to say. How could she explain without completely humiliating herself? What could she say? She didn't want to explain. She still needed time to think!

"I… I don't–"

"If it is me–" he began, taking another step towards her. She pressed back against the table behind her, shaking her head.

"I promise it's not you."

He didn't say anything, not moving towards her but also not moving away, leaving her trapped between him and the table.

She sighed, a blush colouring her cheeks. She couldn't think of a way out of this with him standing there, in front of her. Just the thought of telling him had her stomach doing somersaults. Where would she even begin? Oh, _Godric,_ he was going to hate her.

Better just to get it over with, she supposed, like ripping off a plaster. Maybe he wouldn't hear her properly and she could make a run for it. She closed her eyes, her face heating up even more.

"I… I fancy you," she whispered.

After a few seconds of silence, she glanced up. He was completely red faced, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. Her stomach dropped. Curse her curiosity. Why did she have to look up?

"I'm sorry," she whispered, not knowing what else to say. "I didn't try… and you're just so… I mean, you're _you_ , how could I not? And then–" but she never finished her stumbling speech. Neville cut her off by swooping down and gently planting a chaste kiss on her lips, effectively quieting her.

When he pulled away only a second later, she stood there slightly dazed, her mind reeling.

When she could think semi-clearly, she looked up at him. He was standing there, looking thoroughly like he had been hit over the head with a bludger. His entire face was flaming and it seemed he was holding his breath.

"Hermione…" he began.

She quickly grabbed the front of his robes, pulling him down and crushing her lips to his.

It took him a few seconds to respond, but when he did, he did it with fervour. He circled his long arm around her middle, pulling her up onto her toes, and wrapping his other hand around her right cheek and gently around to tilt her head.

She pulled her fingers through his hair, holding his mouth to hers. She ran her tongue along his bottom lip and he groaned, low in his throat, sending pleasurable shivers down her spine to settle in her stomach.

When they broke apart, minutes or eons later, they were both breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry I've been so distant the last week," she said quietly. "I just thought… well… I thought you'd be upset if I told you."

"Upset?" he asked, his eyebrows pulling together. "I've fancied you for ages. I'm definitely not upset."

She pulled back, her eyes wide, a smile spreading across her face. "Really?"

He laughed. "Well, since fourth year at least, but especially the last few months… since the summer."

Hermione couldn't help the bubble of delighted laughter that erupted from her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. They swayed on the spot, holding each other, both content to remain there.

"Oh no," Hermione groaned, burrowing her face deeper into Neville's robes. "When Ginny finds out, I'm never going to hear the end of it."

Neville laughed. "I can survive her wrath as long as you're with me."

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! I hope I did the characters justice. Please leave reviews and tell me what you think!**


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